


Thinking About Thursdays

by ghostheart



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 21:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13152282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostheart/pseuds/ghostheart
Summary: “Oh my gosh! These are giant!” Wide-eyed, Kaede picks up a clear carton of strawberries and examines it. “They don’t even look like real strawberries anymore.”“Yes. We’re looking for less...bulky varieties,” Kirumi says absentmindedly as she appraises cartons of blueberries.“But isn’t bigger better, Kirumi?”“Please don’t say those things while we’re out.”Kaede and Kirumi's first year living together.





	Thinking About Thursdays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fatiguedfern](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatiguedfern/gifts).



> wrote this for the ndrv3 winter exchange on tumblr for ~fatiguedfern! i hope you enjoy it! ♥
> 
> title and section names are from lullatone songs!

**i. checking things off a to-do list early in the morning**

“All right! We did it! That’s the last box!”

Kaede raises her arms, victorious, and stretches, cracking her aching back.

“Oh, is it?” Kirumi calls out from the living room. “That took less time than I anticipated.”

Kaede grabs the empty box with one hand and rises to her feet, moving toward the living room. Kirumi stares at the arrangement of furniture, seemingly dissatisfied. The spring breeze rolls in through the open window by the balcony and whispers through Kaede’s hair. She sets the box down by the front door with the rest of the garbage that needs to be taken out.

“It wasn’t that hard.” She throws herself onto the sofa and lets the zephyr lull her into a state of tranquility.

“I just fluffed those pillows,” Kirumi laments, rubbing her temples.

It’s the first of May, and it’s all just beginning.

* * *

Kirumi is already awake and dressed and scurrying around their apartment when Kaede wakes up the next morning.

She rolls out of bed with an inhuman groan and walks out into the kitchen, where Kirumi is wiping down the countertops to glistening perfection. Incipient guilt creeps up Kaede’s back at the sight of it. She looks down at her own pajamas and scowls.

“If we’re going to do this, we need to make it fair,” she proclaims as she approaches Kirumi. “It’s my house too, after all.”

“Ah, good morning to you too,” she responds. Her smirk tempers that sharp edge of sarcasm.

“Oh. Right. Good morning.” Kaede shuffles her feet sheepishly.

Kirumi sets the cloth down on the counter and faces her.

“In any case...you know I enjoy this and that I’m good at it. I fail to see the problem with my doing the bulk of the housework.”

Kaede shakes her head and reaches for Kirumi’s hand. “This is something we’re doing together. You’re a maid when you leave the house, but you’re my girlfriend when you come home. Got it?”

Even after all these years, Kirumi’s eyes widen and she blushes when Kaede holds her hand like this. It’s endearing — so much so that Kaede feels her own cheeks begin to flush.

“In that case, I’ll write a list for both of us,” Kirumi concedes.

Kaede nods and pecks her on the cheek. “Good!”

* * *

“Time to get up, dear. Remember what we talked about yesterday?” Kirumi whispers. She shakes Kaede gently, prompting her to open her eyes.

“Kirumi,” she drawls, rolling over in bed. “I don’t wanna get up...”

“In that case, I suppose the chores I wrote on your list simply will not get done.” Kirumi sighs with melodramatic flair and walks into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Just another minute. She just needs another minute to drum up the will to get out of bed and get ready for the day. Just one more minute. Okay, she’s getting up now. She’s really doing it! She props herself up on her elbows. That’s a start. At that moment, she hears Kirumi emerging from the bathroom and immediately condemning her with her resigned gaze.

“My goodness...”

**ii. going to buy some strawberries**

The Nagasaki summer strikes them with all the grace of a freight train. The temperate, breezy weather of spring gives way to unrelenting humidity and vicious sunlight.

“Ugh...”

The heat is, quite literally, going to be the death of her. If it’s assailing her this early, she doesn’t want to think of how the rest of the day is going to go.

Someone shakes her shoulder, pulling her away from the sweet temptation of sleep.

“Why don’t you come to the morning market with me?” Kirumi beseeches. Her voice is soft and soothing, doing nothing to aid her desire to linger in bed.

“Have you been outside today? No way,” Kaede plains, planting herself more firmly into her spot on the bed.

“Kaede, you will feel more tired if you lie around the house doing nothing.”

“So what? Today’s my day off...”

“Weren’t you the one who suggested that we split our duties?”

“...Fine, fine. I’m getting up.”

She slides sluggishly out of bed and stumbles into the bathroom.

Kaede throws on a pair of shorts and a loose white tank top and follows Kirumi out of the apartment. They stroll through the neighborhood, walking along the winding roads, until they reach the morning market by the seaside. Merchants and their stalls line either side of the closed off road. The sweet, luscious scent of fresh fruits and vegetables and the salty tang of seafood converge and assail Kaede’s senses.

“Wow,” she says wondrously, “where should we start?”

“We should get some strawberries, shouldn’t we?”

She follows Kirumi to the fruit vendor on the furthest end of the market, away from the fracas of the crowd. When they peruse the stall’s selection of berries, however, an unsettling sight greets Kaede.

“Oh my gosh! These are giant!” Wide-eyed, Kaede picks up a clear carton of strawberries and examines it. “They don’t even look like real strawberries anymore.”

“Yes. We’re looking for less...bulky varieties,” Kirumi says absentmindedly as she appraises cartons of blueberries.

“But isn’t bigger better, Kirumi?”

“Please don’t say those things while we’re out.”

She throws up her hands, affronted. “You’re the one who decided to make it dirty!”

Kirumi rolls her eyes, but Kaede is feeling gracious enough to let it slide.

After Kirumi’s indecision regarding which vendor to patronize for eggs and tomatoes, they’re finally done with their shopping. Kaede is reasonably confident that they won’t need to buy any fresh food for an absurd length of time. Arms full with brown paper bags teeming with fruit and vegetables, they begin their trek back to their abode.

“Now we have to put all this away,” Kaede bemoans as she huffs and puffs her way into their apartment. She sets the paper bags down on the kitchen counters.

“And then we’ll be done for the moment, so no complaining.”

Kirumi wastes no time in putting each bag and carton in its respective space in their refrigerator.

“Really? We can’t just take a quick break?” Kaede pulls a box of strawberries out of one of the paper bags and lethargically makes her way over to the fridge. Her shoulder bumps up against Kirumi’s, and the latter pinches her ear playfully.

“No, we cannot. Unless you want all of this to go to waste, that is.”

* * *

“We’re gonna be eating a whole lot of fruit salad this summer,” Kaede says. She chops strawberries into thin slices and tosses them in a bowl along with a handful of blueberries. In her peripheral vision, she can see Kirumi watching her, amused.

“Just don’t put pepper in it this time, please.”

**iii. still feeling the waves when you go to bed**

“Is that everything?”

Kaede inspects their floral print tote and mentally goes down their checklist: sunblock, check; books, check; wallets, check; sunglasses, check. Towels, bottles of water, earbuds. Check, check, check.

“I think we’re good!” she declares with a grin.

“Then let’s go, shall we?” Kirumi says, hooking her free arm around Kaede’s.

They live a short bus ride away from one of Nagasaki’s more obscure beaches. They waddle down the road toward the bus stop at the bottom of the hill. Kirumi is no worse for the wear, but these things never fail to remind Kaede just how woefully out of shape she is. She’s panting by the time they finally reach the stop, where two young parents wait with their toddler to take a trip to the beach if their sizable tote is any indication.

“You really must start exercising more. Your profession means that you don’t get nearly as much of it as you should,” Kirumi chides. She runs her hand along Kaede’s arm, feeling the lack of tone, and sighs.

“I’ll get around to it. Maybe when it isn’t so hot...”

They stand in silence as the couple near them fusses with their child. The bus comes into view after ten minutes and rolls to a stop in front of them. They let the family next to them board first before lugging their gear and themselves onto the bus. Kaede follows Kirumi to the back of the bus, where the latter allows her to have the window seat.

Kaede gazes out of the window, willing the sight of the sea to emerge any moment now. Struck by a sudden thought, she turns to Kirumi.

“Hey, have you ever thought about kids?”

Kirumi stiffens in surprise.

“What makes you ask?”

She shrugs. “Just wondering.”

“Well, how do you feel about children?”

“I asked you first!”

“Kaede...”

They continue bickering, and by the time the bus driver announces the arrival of their stop, neither of them has elicited a satisfactory answer from the other.

“Okay! Let’s go!” Kaede shouts as soon as she steps off the bus.

Kaede runs toward the boardwalk and descends down the dunes toward the shore. She sets their bag down and waits for Kirumi to catch up so they can plant their umbrella in the spot she’s staked out for them.

“You really are like a child, aren’t you?” Kirumi says as she approaches the spot. “This is the most excited I’ve seen you in a long time.”

“I haven’t gone to the beach in years, so yeah, I’m just a little excited.”

Kaede gets to work opening up their umbrella while Kirumi sets out their towels.

“Okay, wake me up in fifteen minutes! I want to go in the ocean later.” Kaede throws herself onto the towel, stomach-down.

“Here, let me put some sunblock on you first,” Kirumi says. She produces a bottle of lotion from their bag and pumps a dollop into her hand as she gets on her knees and moves toward Kaede.

She slathers the lotion on her back, massaging it into her shoulders, before moving down toward her legs. Her ameliorating touch rekindles a sense of nostalgia; Kaede closes her eyes and recalls the night before their final exams prior to graduating from Hope’s Peak. Kirumi had massaged her stiff shoulders just like this in Kaede’s dorm room, gently encouraging her to keep working hard in the dim light of her desk lamp. Of course, Kirumi had studied quite a bit as it was, and she was naturally intelligent in a way that Kaede couldn’t claim of herself. She carved out the time to make her life easier even back then.

The thought brings a heat to her face that has nothing to do with the sun.

“Kirumi,” she mumbles.

“Yes, dear?”

She turns her head and opens her eyes.

“I love you a whole lot.”

Kirumi presses her lips into a thin line; her eyes shine in the scintillating light of the sun. Her hand rubs reassuring circles around Kaede’s back.

“I love you too, my dear. Now flip over for me, please.”

* * *

“I’m so tired. Why does the sun make you wanna sleep for the rest of the week?” Kaede grumbles, stifling a yawn.

“When our body temperature is raised by lying in the sun, our body’s natural response is to slow down. It is the same principle as having a fever,” Kirumi explains.

“Gosh, is there anything you don’t know? I don’t know what I did to deserve someone so smart.”

“Hush. You are very intelligent. I would not have been so drawn to you if you weren’t.”

Kaede rests her head on Kirumi’s shoulder the rest of the bus ride home. The sun begins to set on the horizon; by the time they reach their apartment, the sky is a deep purple hue. Kirumi makes quick work of the laundry while Kaede showers; Kaede cleans the doorway of errant sand while Kirumi showers.

When they slip into bed, Kirumi turns over and looks coyly up at her.

“I enjoyed myself today. And I must say, you look rather radiant with a tan.”

Is that sunburn on Kaede’s cheeks? It feels like it.

“Maybe you can get some yourself the next time we go!”

“Absolutely not.”

Kaede falls asleep with Kirumi in her arms and the scent of sea salt on her mind.

**iv. finding a leaf in your girlfriend’s hair**

Summer gives way to autumn; brutal heat yields to a mild chill. Nagasaki’s humidity doesn’t relent, but simply changes form. At Kaede’s insistence, they’re finally embarking on their momijigari pilgrimage for the year at Mt. Unzen.

“Wow! You don’t see foliage like this in Tokyo,” Kaede gushes.

“You’re right. It’s refreshing to be so close to such natural beauty.”

They meander along the mountain’s hiking trail, admiring the spectrum of colors: the grey clouds above them, the green of the pine trees, the rich reds and golds of the leaves above them. They stop at an overlook that presents a view of the entire mountain.

“It’s gorgeous,” Kirumi murmurs.

Kaede looks up at the tree above them to see a red leaf drifting down from its home branch. The lack of wind means it doesn’t travel very far; indeed, it flutters almost directly downward and lands squarely in Kirumi’s hair.

She doesn’t appear to notice, however, and continues exalting the picturesque view of the mountain unaware of the leaf perched in her hair.

There is nothing innately humorous about the sight, but something about it — between Kirumi’s cluelessness and her typically pristine appearance — makes Kaede burst into laughter.

Kirumi looks at her and tilts her head quizzically. She quirks an eyebrow at Kaede’s mirth.

“What? What are you laughing about?”

“No, it’s just — it’s nothing, sweetheart,” Kaede gets out between her giggles.

“Kaede. Please tell me what is going on.”

Kirumi now looks actively irritated, which means it’s most certainly time to give up the gun. Kaede reaches over and plucks the leaf out of her hair.

“You had this in your hair.”

Kirumi blinks — once, twice.

“That’s what you were laughing about? If only I could be so easily entertained,” she says, still bewildered. Nonetheless, Kaede can make out the beginnings of a covert smile. She laughs and wraps her arm around Kirumi’s waist.

“Yeah, you’re saying that. But if you could’ve seen yourself, you’d have been laughing too.”

“I suppose I’ll just have to take your word for it,” Kirumi mutters, concealing her smile with the back of her hand.

**v. seasonal produce**

“Wake up, dear.”

This October day’s balmy air drifts in through the bedroom window, carrying Kirumi’s words to her ears and rousing her from her sleeping state.

“Why? We don’t have anything to do today...”

“It’s the best time of year.”

“What, spring cleaning?” Kaede grumbles, stuffing her face into the pillow once again.

“Kaede. There should be no ‘spring cleaning’ if we keep our space tidy year-round,” Kirumi explains irately. “And to answer your question, no. This is the best time for autumnal produce.”

Kirumi’s insistence on using only the freshest ingredients available is at once endearing and frustrating.

“Okay, okay. I’m getting up,” Kaede announces as she drags herself out of bed. She follows a familiar routine: she dresses herself, brushes her hair, and bounds out of the door with Kirumi on the way to the morning market by the sea. The air is much more merciful than it was in the summer; Kaede’s hardly broken a sweat by the time they finally arrive at the marketplace.

Less people peruse the stalls than in the summer, giving the two of them much more space to breath. A vague sense of nostalgia washes over Kaede as she takes in the colorful sight of sweet potatoes, taro root, mushrooms, pumpkins, sudachi, chestnuts, and squash aligned along their respective stalls.

“This reminds me of when we went to the morning market in summer and bought all those strawberries. Time really flies, doesn’t it?” Kaede says. She sighs as she studies sweet potatoes, deliberately dropping them in her paper bag one-by-one as she finds suitable candidates for whatever stews Kirumi will be making this season.

“Only when you’re having fun, of course,” Kirumi responds. Kaede turns her head to see her smiling warmly. The sight instills in Kaede the sudden urge to melt completely and sluice into the sea.

“You’re right. It’s been...it’s been a lot of fun.”

Kaede doesn’t complain when it comes time to put away the groceries.

**vi. just walking around**

Kaede comes home early from her job at the conservatory one calm November evening. As soon as she hears the door open several hours later, she darts down the hallway and into the foyer before Kirumi can take her shoes off.

“Let’s go out for a walk!”

Still dressed in her maid attire, Kirumi blinks and sets her bag down. “Right now? It’s getting dark...”

“We haven’t spent much quality time together lately, have we?”

It’s true. Their jobs have grown increasingly more demanding. Being a teacher requires more work off the clock than Kaede anticipated, and being a maid necessarily requires one to throw their all into their working. Frowning, Kaede considers the last week and how few words were exchanged between them. A “good morning” here, a “good night” there; otherwise, they mutually succumb to exhaustion.

“It wouldn’t hurt to get some fresh air,” Kirumi admits. She presses a finger to her chin in thought.

“Great! Let’s get changed!”

They slip into clothes more appropriate for taking a walk in the surprisingly balmy November air and make their way out of their apartment and into the street below.

Kirumi slips her hand into Kaede’s and they make their way down the road. People have long since arrived home from their commutes to work; the sun has largely descended. The streets are empty, thankfully. Kaede’s hair flutters in the autumn breeze.

“Gosh. We used to do stuff like this all the time when we went to Hope’s Peak. I really miss that...it makes me feel like I don’t have a care in the world.”

“This is quite nice, I’ll admit,” Kirumi murmurs. The lights from the street lamps and people’s windows glow in her pale eyes. “I miss those days.”

They continue walking in comfortable silence until they reach the park a few blocks down from their apartment. The streetlight illuminates the weatherworn benches and shrubbery at the park’s entrance.

“Hey. Can I...kiss you?” Kaede asks quietly. She squeezes Kirumi’s hand in affirmation of her earnest desire.

Kirumi’s eyes widen and she looks away sheepishly. “H-Here? In public? I’m not sure...”

Kaede flashes a wide-eyed, pouting look that she reserves exclusively for emergencies — a look that earns her pity without fail. Kirumi purses her lips and buckles with the ghost of a smile playing at her lips.

“Just a quick peck, then.”

Kaede leans in and kisses her, caressing her soft lips with her own and running her fingers fondly through her hair. Kirumi slowly — slowly, as she always does — wraps her arms around Kaede’s neck and presses herself against her, reciprocating with the passion of someone seeing their lover after a homecoming. That is something that Kaede has always cherished about her, she supposes; her unfettered enthusiasm for all that she does, from the most menial task to the most sweeping display of devotion to the one she loves. The thought of it causes her heart to flutter, and she kisses Kirumi with even more gusto and abandon than before, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her close.

When time begins to materialize once more, they pull away from one another, albeit still holding one another.

“That was not a quick peck, Kaede.”

“I think you’ll live,” Kaede says with a giggle as they turn back toward their home.

**vii. an awkward dinner conversation at a family gathering**

“It’s been so long. Do you think they’ll still approve of me?”

Kaede puffs her cheeks indignantly as Kirumi zips her coat up for her in light of her occupied hands. “Don’t be ridiculous! They loved you when they met you last time and things have only gotten better since then. I don’t see what they wouldn’t like!”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Kirumi says, pecking her cheek. “But you’re rather biased, aren’t you?”

They board the train to Fukuoka and Kirumi gracefully puts their luggage in the overhead storage before slipping into the seat next to Kaede and resting her head on her shoulder.

“Anyway, as I was saying, you’re perfect and I’m sure nothing has changed,” Kaede says. She runs her fingers through Kirumi’s hair.

Kirumi sighs contentedly. “I’ll take your word for it.”

* * *

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Akamatsu-san,” Kirumi lilts, bowing profusely.

“Ah, you’re finally here! Come in, come in,” Kaede’s father bellows with cheer. He stands aside to allow them in and they cross the threshold into her childhood home.

Kaede leads a reluctant Kirumi into the sizable home’s kitchen where her mother stands at the stove, presumably cooking something with beef and onion judging from the savory scent saturating the air. Both her and Kaede’s father are mostly gray-haired now, she thinks with a bittersweet smile.

“Welcome home, dear! And welcome to you too, Kirumi-chan,” her mother greets.

“The honor is mine.” Kirumi curtsies with a deferential smile.

“Why don’t you two get settled and come down in a moment? Dinner will be ready any moment.”

Silently, awkwardly, they ascend the staircase into Kaede’s room, which has largely remained the same since she left for Hope’s Peak Academy. She can feel a blush creeping up her face.

“Let’s just toss our luggage here and go back down,” Kaede says.

Kirumi hesitates, but ultimately sets their suitcases down. “If you insist, dear.”

Thus, they descend once again and take their seats at the kitchen dining table, where Kaede’s father is already sitting and conversing with her mother.

“It’s no joke when people say that attending Hope’s Peak Academy really has you set once you graduate. You’re both doing so well for yourselves!” Kaede’s mother says as she distributes portions among the four of them.

“Hopefully you pull your weight at home, Kaede. You don’t leave everything to Toujou-san, do you?” Her father’s eyes narrow in accusation.

“H-Hey! Of course I do!” Kaede protests.

“Are you sure? You always were lazy about cleaning growing up,” her mother chimes in.

“Not you too, Mom...”

“Kaede takes very good care of our space, actually,” Kirumi says. “In fact, she’s insisted that I not take my work home with me.”

Kaede laughs nervously. It’s the same laugh as her father’s. She just wants to phase through the walls.

“That’s good to hear. I think we were both worried about Kaede living on her own,” her mother says with a laugh.

Kirumi giggles, reserved, and Kaede feels her soul escaping her body.

* * *

“Was that awkward for you? God, it was awkward, wasn’t it?” Kaede groans, hugging her pillow to her chest.

“Not at all. Actually, I found it rather amusing. My worries from earlier have mostly gone away.” 

Out of respect for her parents, Kirumi has agreed to sleep on a spare futon in the living room. Kaede’s heart aches at the idea of not being able to hold her while they fall asleep, but if this is what it takes to avoid her parents’ consternation, she’ll deal. For the moment, Kirumi is reclined on Kaede’s bed as Kaede sits against the wall.

“You’re not just saying that, are you? Because that would make me feel even worse.”

Kirumi leans over and caresses her cheek; she leans into her touch.

“Stop fretting. Everything went fine. You’re lucky to have your parents, and they’re lucky to have you,” Kirumi says.

“You should tell them that when I mess up on a note in a recital!”

**viii. a photograph from the day you were born**

Their time at Kaede’s parents’ house is coming to an end. Kaede feels somewhat melancholy about it, but she’s eager to get back to her everyday life in Nagasaki. She taps her fingers against the table as her mother and Kirumi idly chat.

“We lived in Tokyo when Kaede was a baby, but we moved to the country for her father’s job. Then we sent her off to Tokyo again to attend Hope’s Peak. Oh, Kirumi-chan, let me show you some pictures of her from when she was little!” her mother says, producing a photo album from the small bookshelf that doubles as a television stand.

This conversation has escalated far more quickly than Kaede was prepared for.

“Mom, come on! Don’t show her that!” she begs. She reaches over the _kotatsu_ to seize the album from her mother’s grasp to no avail.

“Come on, dear, you were a cute baby!” Her mother laughs as she opens the album to the first page and points to the second photo. Kirumi leans in and her eyebrows shoot up. “Kirumi-chan, that picture is from the day Kaede was born. It was the happiest day of my life, but looking at me, you certainly wouldn’t think that!”

Kaede wants nothing more than to sink into the earth at that moment, but she notices that something changes in Kirumi’s eyes as she studies the photograph. Their silver sharpness softens to something more sentimental and fond. The affectionate smirk that had been playing on her lips is all but gone.

“I’m going to get some drinks from the _konbini_!” Kaede announces. She rises to her feet and yanks her coat off the hook on the front door and darts outside.

It’s only a five minute walk to the nearest convenience store. She takes refuge at the back of the snack aisle when she gets there, retreating into her white scarf and stifling a groan of embarrassment.

She whips out her phone and, in a moment of unusual boldness, texts her girlfriend.

_hey what was that look when you were looking at my baby pictures? it’s because i was an ugly baby isn’t it www_

Ugh. She already regrets sending that text. She slaps her forehead in a moment of self-admonishment. Before she can stew in her own stupidity, however, her text tone goes off. Covering one eye, she opens it.

_No, it wasn’t that. At that moment, I was just thinking of how thankful I am that you were born._

_Not that I wasn’t already thankful, of course. But seeing a glimpse of your life before I was in it reminded me._

When she reaches the checkout counter, she’s grateful that the cashier pretends to not notice the tears streaming down her face.

* * *

After they’ve bid their farewells to her parents, they board the train to Nagasaki. Kaede wraps her arms around Kirumi’s free arm.

She never wants to let go.

**ix. perfectly organized cleaning supplies**

“Kaede! Did you rearrange the cleaning supplies cabinet?”

Even after all this time of knowing Kirumi, she can’t tell if that shout was irritated, surprised, or a mix of both.

She swings her legs off the bed and wanders into the kitchen. Kirumi is crouched down, examining their cabinet of various soaps, detergents, sponges, brushes, and disinfectants with the concentration of a surgeon.

“Yeah, I did. It’s almost time for spring cleaning, after all,” Kaede says.

Kirumi’s head whips toward her. “Thank you. It really had gotten to be a mess and I haven’t had the time to tidy it up myself, unfortunately.”

Kaede smiles and rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet.

“I just wanted to do something nice for you. I wasn’t sure if you’d even notice, but I know you wanted to clean this weekend, so I thought I’d do it before then...”

“Every day I wonder what I did to deserve you.” Kirumi sighs and reaches into the cabinet and pulls out a pack of hydrogen peroxide wipes and countertop cleanser. “In fact, why don’t we start today?”

And so, as the incipient March wind filters through their window, Kaede finds herself scrubbing the kitchen floor on her knees. A sigh brews in her chest, but as Kirumi sweeps across the room with a smile on her face, she thinks better of it.

**x. waking up on a picnic blanket**

Today is the day, and she couldn’t ask for a better blessing: the sky is a perfect blinding blue with not a cloud to be seen. The April sun isn’t too strong and the breeze is just right.

“Let’s not lollygag, Kaede. I want to be back in time to make dinner at a reasonable hour,” Kirumi calls from the living room.

Kaede looks out their bedroom window and tucks her hand into her jacket pocket.

* * *

They’ve laid out the blanket at the park near their home, demolished all of the grilled salmon they brought, squabbled over who would eat the last _onigiri_ , and promptly forgot all about the matter when a bird swooped and begun to peck at it. They dozed off, woke up. Now, they lie under the sky that Kaede so admired upon looking out the window this morning.

It hasn’t changed a bit.

“Kirumi,” she says, turning to face her. “It’s been a fun year, hasn’t it?”

Kirumi blinks and tilts her head in an attempt to discern Kaede’s ulterior motive. “Why, yes. I thought that went without saying.”

“I just wanted to hear it myself. I guess we got in some tiffs, too.”

“We did bicker quite a bit.”

“We really fought a couple times, too.”

“I would argue that those were more of a temper tantrum on your part than a true fight.”

“Hey!”

“I was just kidding, dear,” Kirumi assures.

Kaede feigns upset and Kirumi rubs her arm, laughing quietly.

“I didn’t know what to expect when we agreed to move in together, truth be told. But...I find myself always looking forward to what another day with you will bring.” Kirumi squeezes her hand and basks in the warmth of a genuine smile — the perfect image of contentment.

This is it. This is the moment she’s been waiting for. Kaede swallows and wills herself to stop trembling.

“We’ve only been living together for a year, but...we’ve been together a lot longer than that. Do you remember the day I asked you out?”

“How could I forget? You asked me to come to the music room and wanted to hear what I thought of an original song you’d been writing,” Kirumi recalls. “I can’t remember the lyrics, but they were very transparently about you and I getting mochi together.”

Kaede’s cheeks practically radiate heat at the memory of it. “I wasn’t as clever as I thought I was, was I?”

Kirumi says nothing, giggling quietly to herself, before looking up to the sky. They sit in pleasant silence before Kaede decides that it’s finally time.

She takes a deep breath. There’s no going back.

She fishes in her pocket for the small black box she’s been hiding for all these months.

“I want all of our years to be fun together, you know.”

Kirumi’s eyes move from the sky to her hand and widen in epiphany. She brings a hand to her lips. “Kaede — ”

Kaede doesn’t get down on one knee. She knows that sort of formality isn’t what Kirumi loves about her. She rolls onto her stomach and delicately opens the black box, looking up at her.

“Kirumi Toujou, will you make miso soup for me every day?”

Tears fall from Kirumi’s eyes in quick, thin streams, not unlike the one in front of them.

“What an antiquated proposal. Did your father tell you to say that?” She laughs and wipes her tears with the back of her hand, her shoulders still quivering with emotion. “Yes, Kaede Akamatsu. I will make miso soup for you until my final breath.”

Now it’s her turn to cry. Once the dam breaks, she can’t stop the flood. She slips the scintillating diamond ring onto Kirumi’s outstretched finger and cups her face between her hands.

“I never knew I could be this happy,” she says through the lump in her throat. “Thank you for showing me...how good life can be.”

In typical Kirumi fashion, she says nothing and lets the wind speak for her.

* * *

They’ve started making their preparations straight away, and today they find themselves at the wedding dress outlet.

“Kirumi. I love you, and I love that your closet is mostly black clothes. But we are not wearing black dresses on our wedding day!”

The irritation on Kirumi’s face intensifies before melting into something resembling amusement.

“What?” Kaede demands, spinning around from the dress display in front of which they currently stand.

“You know, dear...this is a good argument to have.”

The tension melts from Kaede’s face as she gazes into Kirumi’s eyes. The eyes that enraptured her from her first day at Hope’s Peak Academy, the eyes that acted as a beacon in the dark — the eyes that she gets to admire every day for the rest of her life.

She stretches her fingertips out and reaches for Kirumi’s hand.

“You’re right. It’s the best argument to have.”

Kirumi holds tight.

Kaede is sure that she’ll never let go.


End file.
